Life Changing
by kinsler2013
Summary: Molly was never good at finding the right guy I mean she dated Moriaty... She gets into a relationship with her new boyfriend, Jeremy, and gets into a bit of *trouble*. But of course all Sherlock notices is how Molly took longer getting his coffee. Or does he notice? Eventually Sherolly.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my first Sherlock fanfic and I'm super excited! So I don't know how this will turn out so I will need your feedback. So without further a do here's my story. Molly's POV**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything BBC Sherlock (if I did the third season would already be out)**

I finally leave the morgue at 10pm, having the night shift can be quite a hassle. Dreading to return home to my lonely flat but as I stumble through the door I gasp when I see Jeremy lounging on _my _sofa.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I got off work early and I thought I would stop by." Jeremy explains casually, rising from his position on the sofa.

"Its fine I just, um, didn't know you had a key to my flat." I say slightly suspicious. He walks up to me and kisses me roughly and barely pulls away with a smug smile.

"I know where you hide the spare key, its no treasure hunt" he whispers, leaning down to kiss again but I sigh and pull away from is embrace.

"I smell like death, I'm going to go to rinse off." I say smirking as I walk to my bathroom. I stand under the hot sprays of the shower and let my sore muscles uncoil and let my mind wonder. It has been a few weeks that me and Jeremy have been together and it's been sort of unusual. One second he will be a funny and affectionate boyfriend. Then he's suddenly this weird and rude guy that I don't even recognize.

I shut the shower off and change into my comfy romper and some pj bottoms. As I walk out of the bathroom I hear a crash in the kitchen, so I rush into the kitchen to find wine glasses shattered on the floor with Jeremy hunched over the chards of glass. He gingerly picks up the larger pieces and dumps them in the trash. He startles me when he turns around with _anger _in his dark brown eyes, almost taunting me.

"Where is the wine I brought over last week? I can't find it anywhere." He questions with frustration, not even apologizing for knocking down my wine glasses. Instead he continues to rummage through my cabinets knocking out more contents.

"I well, I tossed the wine, because I didn't know who's it was and-" I said but was cut off by Jeremy's venomous words.

"You what!? That was my favorite wine and very expensive! First you don't appreciate that I came to visit you and now you throw away my things!" he yells, the words were cutting into me like the shards of glass under my feet. Without warning Jeremy starts choking my neck making me gasp for air.

"I want you to look at me when I talk to you! Have you ever heard of politeness?" he bellows as his hands grip harder, feeling my feet leave the ground.

"I-I'm sorry" I cry out, " Please-let me-go!" Jeremy finally releases his grip but only to grab my elbows and pull me so we are face to face.

"If you tell anyone that I abused you, well let's just say you'll be the next dead body in your morgue." He says shoving me away.

"See you this weekend!" Jeremy shouts with the door slamming shut behind him. I lean my back against the wall and fall to the floor sobbing into my hands wondering how _I_ always get in these situations.

It has been a month since it all started with Jeremy and I really don't know why he keeps coming back, I think I'm just his punching bag now. You wouldn't even call this a relationship anymore. The abusive behavior only increases. Some days its a burning slap to the face and other days Jeremy punches me in the stomach leaving me hunched over and unable to breath. I've tried to take the key away from under the mat, but he just kicks down the door till it opens and pounds me in the side for not opening the door.

He went to far last night, it all started because I didn't want to go to one of his "parties" this weekend so he started strangling me then slapped me so hard I fell against the countertop, slipping into unconsciousness. I woke up with a head splitting headache and a large cut along the side of my face. I don't know how long I can stand this non stop beating.

The morgue is the only safe place from _him_, how ironic is that? I have all afternoon shifts this week and today Sherlock happened to be working on a case as I walked in. He doesn't look up from his telescope as I set his coffee next to him. After filling out some paperwork he finally glances up from his coffee mug and gives me a deciphering look.

"Seems you've hit your head on a counter, it could be from clumsiness but that doesn't explain why you're so fatigued from lack of sleep considering the bags under your eyes and not to mention the multiple bruises on your neck which you have carelessly covered by make up." Sherlock deduced, giving her half his attention as he jots some notes down.

"I well, um, had a bit of a accident in my kitchen yesterday." I say looking down at the page in front of me, trying to conceal the blush I felt rising in my cheeks._ If only knew..._ Sherlock seemed to dismiss it quickly and going back to doing who-knows-what. I couldn't help but feel disappointed that he gave into my explanation considering I'm a horrible liar. I really don't matter to him, not really, only to bring him coffee. And deducing me just because I didn't bring him his coffee as fast as usual.

As I leave I, I picked up the mysterious mug of coffee on my desk that had a sticky note stuck to the side of the cup.

_If you apply Neosporin, the cut on your face will heal quicker and not scar_

_-SH_

**Thanks for reading! There is definitely MORE to come this is just the tip of the iceberg :) Anyways please review below, thanks!**

***kinsler2013**


	2. Chapter 2

Hello** everyone! Thanks a bunch for the reviews and if you haven't... Review! Anyways, I'm sorry for the wait I had a bit of a busy weekend. Without further ado here is the next chapter. Sherlock POV**

I am unimaginable bored. There are no murders, homicides, nor the simply suicides to occupy my brain. I've checked with Lestrade at least a thousand times, but still there are no cases to be solved. I'm most positive people are being corrupt somewhere?!

"Where have you been? I've tried to phone you but you didn't answer." John asks slightly frustrated.

"St. Barts running some tests." I reply briskly, not wanting to get into a boring conversation. I hang my coat on the rack and flop onto the couch, attempting to go to my mind palace.

"For five hours? Seriously Sherlock how long do your "experiments" last?" Johns questions.

I open my eyes and look at John, giving him a irritated glare. I simply huff and roll over, bored out of my mind. A ding from my phone makes me scramble to the desk to click the new message from Lestrade.

I've got a murder on Paddington Dr.

-L

Hastily, I grab my coat while yelling at John to hurry up. Once we arrive at the scene my mind is already taking in everything. This is not the best part of London anyways, but this is where drugs are usually sold and bought in this area. I use to come here and get drugs when I was an addict, but that was long ago and I plan on not going back. Approaching the scene, I analyze everything.

Apparently there was a man who got caught up selling cocaine to a Robert Henderson. But Robert didn't even make it to his car before he got shot by the same man. I deduced Robert Henderson and found that he had been buying these drugs from this man for over two years. Question is why kill him now? Judging by the alcohol split on his pants shows he was recently at a pub- no a party just the night before. I circle around the dead body of Robert Henderson and notice something peculiar. He doesn't have the marks of injections from the drugs. So he wasn't using the drugs himself... I kneel next to Henderson and pull out the package of cocaine from his inside pocket (which Anderson completely missed). I flip it around and take not of the initials WE. I rack my brain of initials I've seen of drugs but known come to mind. I flip the bag back over and smell it. Its a different kind of cocaine or at least not the kind I use to buy. "I need to go to the morgue and take a closer look at this" I say to John who is now noticing the split alcohol. Oh, how do they survive? Their brains process so slow, it must be excruciating.

At lab, I look at the cocaine and notice it is a weird mixture of cocaine and morphine. Making some unusual concoction. Molly walks in with my coffee and sets it down next to me... Hmm, she usually hands it to me. I quickly deduce her fatigue, bruises, and cuts that now have surfaced on her skin. Must have been a accident but that wouldn't explain her (more than usual) uneasiness. Must be personal taking not of the very faint tracks of tears on her face. A attack? No its been ongoing probably a month of... Abuse, of a new boyfriend perhaps.

Molly. Being abused. Yet she hasn't gone to the police. He's threatening her, but why? What is he trying to hide.

"Seems you've hit your head on a counter, it could be from clumsiness but that doesn't explain why you're so fatigued from lack of sleep considering the bags under your eyes and not to mention the multiple bruises on your neck which you have carelessly covered by make up." I say, trying to get her to tell me herself.

"I well, um, had a bit of a accident in my kitchen yesterday." She replies, pretending to read her paperwork while concealing a blush. I look at her feeling a odd protective emotion, but disappears as soon as I realize I'm thinking of emotions.

She gathers her things and is about to leave when she notices my note and coffee I made for her. Her mouth gapes, but then shutting it as soon as she realizes I'm staring. She turns around, probably to conceal another blush, and walks out of the morgue.

I honestly don't know why she keeps blushing, I mean its not like I'm flirting. I'm just giving some advice for her health. Right?

**Yeah I know it was sort of short but hey! The next chapter is going to be amazing, trust me I have goosebumps :) till next time! **

***kinsler2013**


	3. Chapter 3

**again, I am most sorry about the wait its been yet another crazy week. Any who, I want to give a big thanks to the reviews and the now MANY followers :) You guys are the best, anyways here is the next chapter. Molly POV**

**Disclaimer: Yet again I don't own a thing from Sherlock TV series**

I jolt awake from previously resting my head on the lab table (probably isn't the most sanitary place to sleep). The doors of the morgue slam shut as John and Sherlock make their way into the lab. I could already tell from the exasperated look on John's face that Sherlock was having a bad day.

"Looks like you have been slumbering on the job from the drool you've got on your chin, seriously Molly keep up your appearance." Sherlock says irritably while gliding over to work on his samples. I turn crimson red and use my sleeve to rub it off.

"Sherlock I know you're not having a good day but there is no need to insult Molly too." John argues defensively. I walk over to get Sherlock his coffee, black with two sugars (I really couldn't forget it if I wanted to). I glance over at the pair of men wondering how John could live with him.

I set his coffee beside him and turn away quickly. Well a little to quickly, I end up tripping over the stool chair trying to put my arms out to brace my fall. There was no "bracing" in my fall it was rather a trip and pummel to the ground. How did I get to be so clumsy? I sit back on my hands and try to get up but my world was spinning to much.

"Molly are you okay?" John exclaims while rushing over to help me up.

"I am fine just a little dizzy."

"Really Molly? You nearly knocked over my whole test! Maybe I should find a new pathologist who isn't so clumsy or can make out a whole sentence without stuttering." He snaps but I could tell he regretted what he said immediately after but it was too late. I look down at my feet backing away from John's care and run out of the morgue so they wouldn't see my unending sobs.

I lay in bed feeling numb just because of a few words. Why do they affect me this much? Why does he matter so much to me?

I sit up and brush away my now extremely tangled hair. It was a Friday night and I was lying in bed crying over a mean, rude, and unemotional man, I'm pathetic. I settled for watching a crummy tv show with Toby curled at my feet. I suddenly realize that Jeremy wasn't here... In fact I haven't seen him in a couple days. Not that I'm complaining its just now I'm scared he'll burst in and choke me to death at any random time. Well, that has been my nightmare for quite some time but with him not actually being here makes me uncomfortable. Maybe Jeremy's gone for good. He probably found a different punching bag that was less clumsy and didn't stutter everytime she talked. There was a sudden knock on my door but I really didn't want to move from my position which was rather comfy. Deciding to get up instead I open the door to John. "Oh hello Molly, is this a bad time?" he asks glancing at my oversized t-shirt and pj bottoms. I never can look decent answering the door.

"Er, no just lounging a bit, want to come in?" I ask as polite as possible but really I just want to return to Toby on the sofa.

"No its fine I just wanted to apologize about Sherlock today, he hasn't gotten anywhere on this case and he's getting annoyed."

"Well you can't really apologize for Sherlock being Sherlock." I say smiling but really his words cut too deep today.

"He does tend to say bad things doesn't he?" John chuckles, "Well I'll let you get back to lounging. Goodnight Molly." He says backing away. I close the door and pad back over to return to my original position.

I scream when a light flickers on in my kitchen, revealing a very dizzy and confused Jeremy. I gape in shock as he drops a drug needle onto the floor, while rubbing his arm where he injected the drug.

I froze there unable to move just staring at him. He stumbles toward me and grips the sofa for leverage. I back away and try to grasp the situation. Jeremy is into drugs.

"Jeremy..." I waver unsure if he can even comprehend what I'm saying. He looks at me from across the couch, pupils dilated to the max.

"Why are you at my flat?" he asks looking around, beyond confused.

"You're at my flat, how did you even get in?" I ask still shocked. He just glances around some more before standing up and stumbling to the door. He slowly exits my flat and all I can do is watch him leave, still frozen in place.

**Thanks for reading! Review for ideas I badly need them or just comment on what you thought about it. Oh! I will be at a tournament this weekend so the new chapter will be posted sometime next week. Thanks!**

***kinsler2013**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well hi everyone I finished a extremely exhausting weekend but I was determined to write another chapter before another week started. Anyways thanks for all the encouragement and I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Oh, there is a song called Fall by He Is We that is perfect for the mood in the last chapter, just thought I'd put that out there. **

**Sherlock POV**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own anything from BBC Sherlock**

I am most annoyed with this case, it should be simple, yet its three days in and I'm no where near finishing it. The only thing I've found is that the initials stand for Westend company, which is a shipping company for flour. Well, if your flour is cocaine and other various drugs.

The man who killed Robert Henderson got sloppy and forgot to retrieve the drugs before he left the scene. Idiot. How could he make such a careless mistake? Maybe he doesn't care. Maybe... He already has the drugs he just isn't selling them anymore. The drugs could've just been to lure Robert Henderson. That must be right because the man who killed him did not even attempt to cover up the drugs or take them.

I was suddenly snapped out of my mind palace by a clattering noise in the kitchen.

"John would you be quiet, I'm trying to think!" I yell from the living room. He always has to find someway to make noise at inconvenient times.

"Sherlock you've been thinking for over three hours, I can't just stop what I'm doing and be quiet for you that long." m

"Well that's fine because we are leaving for St. Barts anyways." I say rather matter-of-fact. John lets out a huff and snatches his coat as I stride out the door, John always straying to keep up.

When we arrive my usual pathologist is asleep at her desk. I scoffed as she arose from the position at her desk.

"Looks like you have been slumbering on the job from the drool you've got on your chin, seriously Molly keep up your appearance." I say irritated, taking my normal seat while we go about our usual routine.

"Sherlock I know you're not having a good day but there is no need to insult Molly too." John argues pointlessly, he should know by now that my insults are common.

Molly sets my coffee down and turns away but only to fall to the ground, nearly knocking over all my work. I begin to release my wrath on her but something stops me for only a moment. I don't know why but when I saw her on the ground she wasn't just bracing the fall. It was like an instinct she must have taken on recently because she put her arms up to protect her face, yet there was no one to attack her... Odd.

Of course John runs to her aid, making sure she hadn't badly hurt herself.

"I'm fine just a little dizzy." She says staggering up to a standing position.

"Really Molly? You nearly knocked over my whole test! Maybe I should find a new pathologist who isn't so clumsy or can make out a whole sentence without stuttering." I snap at her, trying my hardest to forget the emotions nagging at me. But saying this only makes the pit in my stomach feel deeper. I regret the words immediately after they leave my mouth. I don't have enough time to do anything as she backs away and rushes out the morgue doors.

John just glares at me and runs to the door to see if she was still out there. She must've fled from the morgue because John returned alone.

"Sherlock you need to apologize, I mean that was low even for you." He says giving me an accusing look. I don't look up at him, I keep my eyes glued to the microscope. I hear shuffling and the door slam shut.

I stay at the morgue past closing time stalling to go back to the flat. My phone buzzes from inside my coat and I furrow my brow as to who would text me this late. I click open my phone and flinch from the sudden brightness.

Another murder on Wilson St. we think its the same man who killed Robert Henderson. -L

I immediately jump up and shoot a quick text back that I was on my way. I debated whether to text John but thought against it given that he's probably in bed.

The body of the women who happened to be crossing the street as a man drove by and hit her. She now lies on the ground in front of me with police lights spinning in the background. I deduce everything about the women from her age to her last affair. None connecting to the company or drug dealings.

"We found a business card on the side of the road. It said the company Westend and a Jeremy Martin as the contact. He is now our main suspect for this case but we don't know if someone else is involved and we can't seem to find his past locations given that he has never bought a flat nor a car." Lestrade said while approaching the scene. I "hmm" in response and try and remember where I saw that name, it sounds so familiar. Its like I've glanced at the name from somewhere. Then it hits me, Molly had left her desktop open to her blog about her new boyfriend about a month ago and I snuck a peak at what she could possibly drabble about. It had the name of her new boyfriend in it: Jeremy Martin.

**Thanks for reading and please comment, follow, or favorite. Hope you guys liked it, and the next chapter should be up towards the end of the week or something like that.**

** *kinsler2013**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi again, I'm sorry for updated late I had yet another busy week. I wanted to say that our thoughts and prayers go out to the people involved with the Boston explosion. I also want to thank you guys for reviewing and following me, if you haven't you should. Any who, here is chapter five. Molly POV**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own a thing **

I can barely process anything today I'm just glad I got to work safely. My mind has been racing and the signs of lack of sleep are definitely more evident than before. I'm mentally slapping myself for not noticing that Jeremy was into drugs. The only thing that keeps nagging me is what else do I not know about him or when is he going to pop in again? I haven't told a soul about him but I'm now debating whether to tell someone before I get killed or I just get killed because I know too much.

Sherlock nor John show up at the morgue today and honestly I'm not surprised. After the incident I caused yesterday I wouldn't be surprised if Sherlock found a new pathologist to pester and to fetch him his coffee. Although I doubt John would agree to leave St. Barts just because Sherlock is annoyed with me.

I have over six autopsy's to do this afternoon but with the pace I'm at right now it won't be till late tonight before I finish. I inwardly sigh knowing there's a long day ahead but not daring to rest my eyes in fear of getting caught by the consulting detective again. That was probably the most embarrassing moment when Sherlock told me I had DROOL on my chin.

I'm beyond exhaustion and I'm only on my third body! At around six o'clock I stop by the vending machine to get some crisps to suffice for a dinner. A couple of doctors walk by as I slam my fist against the stupid button to receive my extra change. I blush as they leave their shift in an awkward silence. I make my way back to my desk taking a deep breath as I glance over the paperwork on Jerry Simmons.

I just finished writing his cause of death when I felt a slight breeze. I pull my lab coat a little closer to myself and strain my eyes to look at my paper. I yawn and get up to start on my fourth autopsy. As I slip my hands into my blue surgical gloves I don't notice a dark shadow lurking by the door, just as I pick up my scalpel I feel a body press up against my back. I start to scream but a hand muffles my mouth. I start to hyperventilate knowing that everyone has left and finished their shift. I don't have to see his face to know that it is Jeremy. I thought I would be safe at the morgue because it is a public place but now it is basically deserted. There is nobody here to witness my long and excruciating death.

"Sorry I haven't been around, darling." He snarls into my ear. Jeremy shoves me to the ground as I roughly land on my backside.

"Did you think I would just leave and not come back?" He asks and grabs me by my ponytail. I yelp in pain as Jeremy glares at me for reasons I don't know why. I can't move. I can't think. I'm unable to do practically anything as he continues to insult me and kick me in the side until I'm rolled into a ball, gasping for air. My vision goes blurry as he punches me in the face.

"Do you know how much I suffer? I barely make it by. I have to hide every run I do. Do you know what its like to kill someone?"

I go numb after awhile because I can barely feel the tears stream down my face. I muster the strength to stand up and glare back at him. I clutch my left side in hope to stop the throbbing pains. Jeremy looks outraged by the fact that I had the audacity to stand back up. In return he walks up to me and begins to choke me. He digs his fingernails into my neck almost to the point of bleeding. I see black at the edges of my eyesight and I wheeze for air while clawing at his arms.

"I can't wait to relish what your dear Sherlock Holmes will be like when I kill his pathologist- oh but wait it's not like he really cares about you" Jeremy sneers and I lunge at him feeling an overwhelming amount of rage that had stirred up inside of me.

First it was a knee to the groin, I then swung my arm around to make contact with his jaw. He doubles over for a couple of seconds before tackling me to the ground while shoving my neck to the tile. Jeremy locks my arms as he straddles my body so that I can't try to punch him again. I squirm to free myself from his grasp but it soon becomes impossible to breath. He is yelling at me but I can't process what he is saying. It was as if everything turned into slow motion. I can feel myself slipping away as his grip tightens. I try to scream but of course nothing comes out. Just as my eyes close I literally feel a weight being lifted off me it only takes me but a few moments to realize what happened. The long black coat with wavy black hair, and the blue eyes that you can't miss. I think it's a dream or a hallucination but I suddenly feel a arm cradle my head. I can barely see over Sherlock's shoulder the outline of Jeremy's body who has been knocked out cold.

"Stay with me Molly you need to keep your eyes open."

I can only make out bits and pieces but I still can't fight my eye lids that are close to shutting. All I can feel is the warmth emitting from Sherlock's chest and the feeling of relief as he carries me to the flashing lights of an ambulance.

**Thanks for reading and I hoped you liked it, if not review what I should do or ideas of what to come. Have a great weekend!**

***kinsler2013**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hola! I have finally got time to write this chapter and I'm also super grateful for all the reviews and new followers because you guys keep me writing. And also tell me if someone is out of character or any other criticism. Sherlock POV**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Sherlock BBC, but oh do I wish**

Once I got back to my flat from the crime scene I looked at Molly's blog. I had originally asked Lestrade but he said they had no records on Jeremy Martin in the past five years and barely anything before that except his age, gender, and other non important things that would help me discover where he is at. I slam my fingers on the keyboard trying to find something that would be a clue. Apparently Molly stopped blogging all together a few weeks ago. That was strange because she rarely stopped talking about her life, yes I know Jeremy had been "harassing" her but not to the point of totally cutting out her social life.

I suddenly felt a huge pang of guilt. Yes I know, I** felt** something, usually I tuck these emotions aside given my multiple experiences with John but Molly is somehow different. I actually apologized to her at a lousy Christmas party because the guilt from the harsh words I said was eating me alive. This though, this abuse from a drug addict, I let slip from my attention! How? How could I be so obtuse with Molly?

I scrolled through her previous posts scanning for anything about Jeremy nothing stuck out at because the posts were mainly about her (that shouldn't be a surprise) THINK! Why would she stop blogging? Was it something about her personally? No, _he _is abusing _her_. He is probably threatening her with her life because... It can't be just because he's abusing her its something else, there's always something... I snap my head in realization Molly must've caught Jeremy with the drugs. That would explain her more than usual uneasiness the other day. I flash back to the crime scene I was just at and analyze the skid marks from the car and the location of the scene and which way the car was driving. I quickly realize where he is and mentally scoff myself for not coming to the conclusion sooner. Jeremy is on the run and whoever is on his tail is catching up to him so he needs to eliminate all the evidence where his where abouts have been or who knows of his existence. Molly.

I hop into a cab and order the cabbie to the St. Barts. I stare out the window with my mind whirring out of control as I quickly sent a text to Lestrade. I threw the money at the man and left the cab with a flash of my coat. I stride into the morgue as quickly as my feet could carry me. I abruptly stop at the doors and take a sharp breath. I can faintly see the shadows of two bodies laying on the ground.

It is as if I'm a blur as I crash through the doors and catch the look of complete shock as I send the most angered punch to Jeremy's head. I see the light fade out of his eyes as he falls to the ground with a sort of triumph thud. I shove him off of Molly and kneel next to her. Everything I have been guilty for seems to crash into me in waves as I gently pick up Molly's head to keep her awake. Her eyes flutter open a little trying to glance at the man I just knocked out. Molly's eyes start to close and I pull her closer in attempt to keep her alive.

"Stay with me Molly, keep your eyes on me." I say while shifting her into my arms. I try and look at her body for any bleeding but all I see are nasty cuts and bruises and the horrific marks on her neck. I hear the ambulance arrive along with the police so I carefully carry her outside. The medics rush over with a stretcher and they glide her onto it with ease. I watch as they speed off with sirens blaring to the ER. I stand in the mist of the police as the rush past me into St. Barts. to retrieve Jeremy.

It is John who arrives and finally snaps me out of my haze. He says something but I still can't make out exactly what he says.

"Sherlock! Are you alright? What happened?" He yells almost annoyed but he stops and just looks at me calmly once I gather the strength to stare back at him.

"Molly slipped from my attention and it won't happen again." I say more to myself than to John. He just looks back at me more confused than before. I roll my eyes and say that I will explain later. Of course John just keeps arguing how I never tell him anything but he is now just an annoying noise in the back of my head. I walk over to Lestrade who is discussing with some of the other cops.

"Jeremy Martin was a drug addict himself, but there is something else. He isn't just a everyday drugs dealer. I need to know his connections and what was his next destination." I interrupt Lestrade who stands with his hands on his hips in a exhausted manner.

"Sherlock, we just took him into custody let us breath before you start bombarding us with orders."

"Would anyone care to tell me who were talking about and why Molly just drove away in an ambulance?" John asked clearly furious. I growl in frustration as I stride away from the utterly annoying scene. I faintly hear Lestrade explain to John but then I notice the hideous sweater Molly wore lying on the ground. I pick it up and look straight through the torn fabric that spelled "I O U"

**DUN DUN DUN... So yes it was a cliffhanger of some sort. Anywho thanks for reading and please comment. Thanks!**

***kinsler2013**


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